


Trepidation

by paxton1976



Series: Found, and Lost [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cannibalism, Dismemberment, Graphic Description, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Rape Torture, Torture, Triggers, Violence, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxton1976/pseuds/paxton1976
Summary: Antieku sets off to rescue Kaneki, but they are not prepared for what they face.  After freeing Kaneki, Uta becomes chillingly aware of the torment the half-ghoul went through.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First off, TRIGGER WARNINGS!! I absolutely do not want you reading this if you are uncomfortable with rape or torture. Relapses are no fun and can take a long time to recover from. As much fun as a fic can be, I want each of my readers to be safe within their own minds.
> 
> This was the most difficult thing I have ever written. I came up with the idea when my PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) anniversary was approaching. I needed something therapeutic to work out all the horrible feelings and emotions. Facing my own life-threatening event, I could relate to the lost, broken, numb, alone feeling. You feel as if no one understands and it's so frustrating to try to get them to. More times than not, you give up trying and the ones you love and care for walk away. I lost most of the people in my life due to this event. I wanted to write this so Kaneki had an unwavering support system he could rely on at any time. This is the beginning of a series, of a journey. I've risen from the ashes and have been reborn into something strong, purposeful and wonderful. Kaneki will have the same. So please hold on if this takes a while to write. I want it to be as close to perfect as I can.
> 
> Now that I've poured my soul out to everyone, story notes:  
> C'est mauvais is French for It's horrible.  
> Un, deux, trois...are the French numbers. I went up to nine. Leave it to Tsukiyama to embellish a situation *rolls eyes*  
> The lyrics of the song I put in are from Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace. This was one of my go-to songs when I went through my incident. It is very fitting in this application as well.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this installment of Found, and Lost.

You can follow me on tumblr [here](http://paxohana.tumblr.com). Stay up to date on latest chapters, story progress, if you have an idea, or just want to give a shout out! You guys are what drives me, and I so appreciate every one of you.

 

Dust rained down on them from the ceiling as a large crash thundered through the building. The silver-haired ghoul looked up and watched as cracks splintered along the plaster.

“We need to hurry,” he said, picking up the pace. The trio rushed to the circular stairwell, the sounds of an intense battle finally reaching them. The tall, well dressed ghoul poked his head over the twisting metal and observed the situation. The next floor was swarming with CCG officers. The barrage of bullets hurtling towards the ghouls on the other side was unbelievable. He watched as ghoul after ghoul was cut down and the agents advanced further. He didn't know how the trio was going to get past them and find the young half-ghoul. He hid in the shadows, returning to the other men.

“So...” the tattooed ghoul urged.

“Oh, c'est mauvais!” Tsukiyama began dramatically, “There are at least twenty CCG up there, completely destroying the Aogiri ghouls. Aogiri can't even attack. What are we going to do?”

The three were silently trying to concoct a plan when a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air. They turned their heads to the stairwell, watching as a body fell to the ground. The silver-haired ghoul walked to the stairwell and crouched before the body. There were several holes torn through the man. His head had been completely ripped off. Yomo grasped the corpse's shoulder to turn him over when something heavy bounced off his back. He turned and saw a head rolling on the floor, slowly coming to a stop. The face was contorted in pain and abject fear. His eyes were wide and slightly bulging, his mouth frozen in a silent scream. The silver-haired ghoul shook his head as he rose from the ground. The gunfire had become sporadic before ceasing completely. He looked to the other two ghouls and nodded his head. They ascended the stairs quickly, preparing themselves for battle. When they reached the next floor, the tall ghoul stopped suddenly.

“There's only one?” Uta asked. A very tall man stood before them. His black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, trailing down his back. He wore a white mask with nothing but a psychotic smile on it. He slowly advanced towards them.  Tsukiyama held out his left arm and his koukaku wrapped itself around the appendage. He thrust his arm out, the kagune darting forward and embedding itself in the tall man's abdomen. The purple-haired ghoul pulled his kagune out and with a flourish impaled the man's chest. His eyes widened as the man continued walking.

“This may prove difficult,” Tsukiyama surmised. The well-dressed man charged forward, engaging the other ghoul in battle. The tall man refused to move. The purple-haired ghoul began to count as he attacked.

“Un, deux, trois,” he sang, piercing the taller ghoul.

“Quatre, cinq, six,” he continued, striking over and over. The man gave no indication he was being attacked.

“Sept, huit, neuf, and ten!” he yelled, finally lifting the ghoul off his feet and threw him across the hallway. The man looked down as tattooed hands jutted through his chest.

“Uta, hold him there,” the silver-haired ghoul instructed, rushing towards him. He kicked his leg out and hit the man with all his might, severing the ghoul's upper body. It went flying through the air before strands of blood from the body reached out. They entwined with the skin before bringing the head and shoulders down. The trio watched in amazement as flesh knitted itself back together and the man began to breathe again. He started for them, but stopped as he felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled his phone out, pressed a button and walked past the trio.

“Do we go after him?” the purple-haired ghoul asked.

“No, we have to find Kaneki,” Yomo replied. He turned and walked down the hall. The rest of the way was fortunately without incident. They occasionally heard loud bangs and crashes, but they were getting fewer and far between. They finally came to a tall door at the end of the hall.

“Ok, we are going to go in, blitz, grab Kaneki and run back out. This has to be very fast. We need to be out before they can regroup. Any questions?” The other two ghouls shook their heads and waited for the door to be thrown open. A painfully anguished cry erupted from the other side, prompting Yomo to rip the door from it's hinges. He took several hurried steps inside before halting abruptly. The sight before him sent chills down his spine.

“Say it.”

Whimpering.

“Say it.”

Sobbing.

“Say it!” Tearing. Chewing.

“692,” a shaky voice complied.

“There, was that so hard? You taste like shit,” the white-haired ghoul snarled.

“685.” Another bite. Another scream.

“I think I'm going to puke.”

“6...678.” Tearing. Agonizing scream. Chewing.

The other two ghouls had entered the room, standing beside Yomo. The raven-haired man's mouth parted. He couldn't believe his eyes. He absently approached the young ghoul until he stood feet away from him. The half-ghoul was bent over a horribly injured figure, one Uta could only guess was Yamori. He was tormenting the man, making him count backwards and then tearing flesh from his body and kagune. They were both a bloody mess. The man turned his head to the newcomers. The mask-maker's eyes widened suddenly. Half of Yamori's face was missing, it had been bitten off. His right eye was dangling out of the socket and resting on the floor. Gashes and gouges marred his body. What was left of his kagune was convulsing violently and hemorrhaging profusely. He writhed in pain each time the young ghoul ripped a piece from him. He tilted his head, looking the mask-maker in the eyes.

“Please...” Yamori begged, “Help me.” He screamed and lurched as tentacles pierced his body.

“Help you? HELP YOU? Where was my help? When you were so close to killing me? When you made me choose between Kei and Kouto's lives? When you cut my fingers off? My toes? _HELP YOU??_ ” Kaneki bellowed before breaking into insane laughter. His face fell as he thought for a moment, tapping on the injured ghoul's shoulder, “What's next?”

Wailing.

“671.” Tearing. Crunching. Shrieking. Chewing.

“Kaneki?” the mask-maker asked hesitantly. The half-ghoul's head whipped around to face him. The young man's eyes widened briefly before glazing over with madness. He grasped his newly white hair with both hands, shaking his head repeatedly.

“No, no, no, no. You aren't here. You aren't real. Every time I needed you, you...” he stopped, voice breaking, “You weren't here. Why is now any different? I'll close my eyes and you'll be gone again. I'll be left to die.”

The raven-haired man's heart wrenched as the half-ghoul sobbed. He was so broken. His mind, his body. The tattooed ghoul lifted his head as he heard gunfire sound in the distance. He glanced to the other two men, contemplating what to do.

“Uta, we have to go. Now,” the silver-haired man urged. The other ghoul nodded. He gently placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. The white-haired ghoul reacted violently. He grabbed the collar of the man's shirt and slammed him to the ground. His face was twisted in anger as he looked down at the man. The raven-haired held his arms out so the other could see them.

“Ken, I'm here. So is Renji. We're going to get you out of here and take you home. Does that sound good?” he asked as he touched the youth's cheek lightly. He watched as the half-ghoul's face fell from rage to desperation. A single tear fell from his darkened eye.

“Home?” The tattooed ghoul nodded, wiping the red trail from fair skin. The young man slowly stood and looked at his tormentor. He hugged his body and shivered, thoughts of the past week flooding his mind. He took a deep breath and tried to quiet the voices threatening to overtake him. He looked up as he felt a hand on his shoulder once more.

“Come on, there's nothing left for us here,” the other man said softly. He guided the smaller ghoul to the other two men. He watched as they left, promising to catch up to them in a few minutes. He took a deep breath, cracked his fingers and advanced towards the mortally wounded man. He crouched in front of him, bending down so the other could hear him.

“What can I do to help you?” Uta asked.

“Food. I...need...food. Please...help me,” Yamori blubbered. He was trying to lift his broken body from the floor. The tattooed man placed a hand on his back, urging him to keep still.

“Where can I find some? Who do I need to get?”

“Nico...” the man rasped, “Nico will take care of everything. Down the hall...should be down the hall.”

“I'll be right back,” the raven-haired man said. He stood and walked quickly to the doorway. The injured ghoul was baffled as he watched his rescuer slow and eventually come to a stop. The tattooed ghoul placed one hand on a hip and spun around. His other hand came up to his mouth, putting a finger on his pierced lips. He appeared deep in thought.

“You know, there is a question that I can't answer on my own,” he finally said, returning to Yamori. He knelt in front of him once again.

“W-what?” the bloodied man stammered.

“Why would you interfere? I set this in motion. I've taken this kid under my wing. I have claimed him. And yet you snatched him away and threatened to unravel my masterpiece,” he tilted his head and looked at the blond ghoul with owlish eyes, “Why would you do this?”

“Rize,” he whispered, “He had to pay for Rize.”

Yamori watched as Uta contemplated his explanation, nodding slowly. The raven-haired man looked down at the other man, meeting his good eye. The stare sent chills down the blond man's spine. He shrunk back when the other man held a hand out and gently caressed his cheek.

“Shh, it's ok. I get it,” he said soothingly. He lifted the man's head off the floor gently and cupped his face. He carefully scooped the loose eye up and held it gingerly.

“One thing you'll have to understand. I always get the final say. I always get the last move. You, my friend, are nothing but a pawn,” he sneered. He looked to the eye in his palm. He folded his fingers around it and yanked roughly. The other ghoul's agonizing scream punctured the relative quiet. The raven-haired man popped the orb into his mouth and chewed, eyes never leaving the other ghoul.

“See, you thought I was your savior,” he continued, pausing only to swallow the gelatinous substance, “I'm actually your executioner. I have everything I need to know. I don't have a use for you any longer. And I can't let you live. You'll just get in the way. Any last words?”

Yamori was frantic. He tried to push himself up. He needed to get away from the other man. He was crushed back down by a foot on his back. He stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life.

“You know, I actually don't care. Enjoy hell.”

Uta slammed his booted foot onto the other man's skull, feeling bone splinter beneath him. He stepped back and looked at the blond ghoul. A long, low moan escaped the gravely injured man. His face was expressionless and his remaining eye blank. He stomped on the other's head one more time. The skull collapsed on impact, blood and grey matter oozing out. He looked down, completely unfazed by the carnage before him. He spun around and walked out of the room.

* * *

It was early in the morning when they finally reached the mask-maker's shop. The ride to the Fourth Ward had been extremely harrowing. After calling Irimi to inform her of Kaneki's condition and their plan of action, they took Yomo's SUV to the Fourth Ward. However, the white-haired ghoul realized the front passenger was The Gourmet and became manic. He struggled against the tattoed ghoul in the back seat. He released his kagune, attempting to impale the purple-haired man with the newly strengthened tentacles. Realizing how dangerous their predicament was, Yomo pulled over and instructed the other man to get out.

“How am I supposed to get home?” the man asked incredulously.

“There is this invention called public transportation. Use it. There's a bus stop across the street,” the silver-haired ghoul snarled. He didn't care how Shuu got home. His priority was getting Kaneki out of public view and somewhere safe. He leaned over and closed the passenger door, ignoring the indignant look on the man's face. He sped through the Thirteenth Ward, silently thanking the gods they were almost at Hy Sy.

He screeched to a halt, sliding into a parking spot when they reached the alley that led to the shop. The raven-haired man exited the vehicle, gently encouraging the half-ghoul to follow him. He held the youth against him, half dragging him to the door leading to the shop. The white-haired man was incognizant of his surroundings. He stared off into nothingness, which made Uta count his blessings. Leading a raging ghoul through the alley would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.

The silver-haired man stopped in front of the shop, unlocking the door. The trio entered the building quickly. Renji busied himself with shutting the door and locking the shop. Screw the raven-haired's open door policy. Tonight they would have their hands full. The mask-maker and half-ghoul made it halfway through the gallery before the white-haired man stopped abruptly. His eyes grew wide as he his unfocused gaze dropped to the floor.

“Black and white,” the youth whispered as he began to whimper. He jerked his head to the tattooed man. The man took in the terrified profile. Red tears were welling up in his eyes, lower lip quivering, blanched face.

“Please,” he cried, “Please don't hurt me. I'm good. I didn't do anything. No centipedes....please. Don't take me. It hurts. Don't kill me!”

The mask-maker frowned and reached an arm out to comfort the youth. The white-haired man flinched, backing away from him. His eyes never left the others, shaking his head. He froze as he bumped into a nearby display case. The raven-haired ghoul approached him slowly, talking soft words of comfort and compassion.

“Ken, no one is going to hurt you here. Let's go upstairs. You always loved it up there. Serene, I think you called it?” His eyes darted to the silver-haired man who was drawing near the smaller ghoul. They desperately needed to get him out of the gallery. He hadn't thought of the mental anguish the room might cause the young man. He nodded curtly to the taller ghoul. The man quickly closed the gap between him and the youth, wrapping his arms around him. He lifted the white-haired man off the floor and carried him to the stairs. The other was thrashing about wildly, screaming in terror.

“Hurry,” the raven-haired loudly said, trying to be heard over the young man's screams.

“I'm trying,” the tall ghoul replied through clenched teeth, “It's a little difficult carrying him.” The man trudged up the stairs as quickly as he could. He gently placed the youth in an arm chair. The mask-maker hurried to him, crouching in front of the tormented man. He placed his hands on either side of his head, forcing the white-haired ghoul to look at him.

“Ken, it's ok. We're home. No one is going to hurt you here.” The confession was met with a swift kick to his chest. He staggered back as he felt bone crack with the impact. The young man swirled away from the chair, scrambling to a corner of the room. He huddled into a ball and started to rock back and forth, whispering to himself. The raven-haired crawled to the half-ghoul, stopping a mere foot away from him.

“Won't take me, won't hurt me. Have to get away. No, stop talking. I'm good. You..you started this! You made me this. Shut up! Oh no! No! Go away! Can't have you here! Too many voices. Too many. Oh God help me!” the man wailed.

Uta watched the young man's internal battle, his heart broken. The white-haired ghoul had wormed his way into his heart and had become so important to him. It tore him apart that he didn't know how to help him. The only thing he could do at this point was just watch. The youth continued his one-sided conversation as the other two watched in horror. Eventually the young man tired out, falling into a fitful sleep. The raven-haired man looked to the other.

“I'm afraid to move him. I don't want him to wake up.”

The silver-haired ghoul nodded. “Yeah, but if he wakes up he's less likely to attack you. Put him on the couch. What does he mean though? Take? Where did they take him?” The other shook his head.

“I'm going to get something to eat. I doubt little man has eaten for a while. If he wakes before I get back, call me. I don't like the idea of you being alone with him.” The mask-maker nodded and watched the other man descend the stairs. He sank into a nearby chair and watched the young man sleep. It had been a very long, trying night. His body screamed with pain. His breathing was agonizing. He could feel his ribs regenerating from Kaneki's kick. He took a deep breath before closing his eyes. He had almost drifted to sleep before a small voice lured him back to consciousness.

“Uta?”

He focused his eyes on the young man. The half-ghoul had repositioned himself so he was lying on his side. He watched the mask-maker's every movement.

“Ken, you should still be sleeping,” he chided softly.

“Can't. Too many dreams. They make me sick. I don't know if they are a dream or reality. I don't know what's real. Am I really here? Or is this another one of my dreams? I would think about you when he was cutting my fingers and toes off...” the young man trailed off. Listening to Kaneki repeat his torture made Uta's stomach roil so much he thought he was going to vomit.

“You don't have to talk about it,” he said, trying to steady his voice. He hadn't thought specifically what Kaneki had gone through, but he knew it was horrifying.

“I need to. I don't know when I'm going to slip away again. He would scream that he would kill me as I was yelling. It hurt so much and I was so terrified. I honestly didn't know if he would kill me. Nico had to stop him from finishing me. A lot. Yamori said he wanted to play more. After he did that, he...he...he, uh,” the man drew in a shaky breath and dropped his head, white hair covering his eyes. The raven-haired saw tears trickle down his cheek.

“Ken, don't.”

“He raped me. Over and over. Nico just watched,” he whispered. His shoulders began to shake as he sobbed quietly. The mask-maker felt a rush of electricity run through his body. He felt numb. It hurt thinking that the half-ghoul had gone through this.

“Can I sit next to you?” the mask-maker asked. The young man nodded as he continued to weep. The ghoul stood slowly and eased himself onto the couch next to Kaneki.

“Is it ok if I touch you?” he asked. White hair shook as the other nodded again. The raven-haired placed an arm around the younger man, pulling him closer. The half-ghoul shifted slightly, clutching at the other's cardigan and buried his face into his chest. He bawled as the older ghoul held him tightly. Tattooed hands swept through the mop of white hair, soothing words being whispered against pale skin followed by gentle kisses onto his forehead.

“I can't tell you it will be alright, Kaneki, but I'm here. I'll help you get through this. And I'll be here no matter who you become. I promise you that,” the mask-maker professed. The young man nodded weakly and his expression changed. He still appeared deeply saddened but determination crept in. His eyes dropped from the older ghoul's eyes to his lips. He brushed his lips against pierced ones. The tattooed man could feel the other trembling. The youth was hesitant in his movements, which were baffling the other man. He jerked when he felt the young man palm him through his pants.

“Ken, no. What are you doing?”

“I need different memories. I need you, Uta. Please help me erase the bad stuff,” the young man pleaded, “Just please do it quickly.”

“Ken, no. This is an extremely bad idea and I'm not going to do it,” the mask-maker retorted. He removed the young man's hand and held it. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed his lips against the delicate skin. He traced his lips along fresh scars on each finger, eyes never leaving the half-ghoul's. He smiled and pressed his forehead against the others.

“I'll help you make new memories, Ken, but not like this. Agreed?” The young man bit his lower lip, nodded and then looked away. The older ghoul placed a hand on the other's face, bringing it back to him. Exhaustion had crept back into the young man's features. Uta stood and urged the half-ghoul to lay down. He grabbed the blanket that was on the back of the couch and draped it over the youth. The white-haired ghoul's eyes fluttered shut many times before jerking open.

“Uta?” The tattooed man hummed in acknowledgment. “Can I borrow your mp3 player? I lost my phone,” he asked. The other nodded and retreated to his room, bringing a silver device with him. He handed it to the young man.

“Thanks. I can't handle silence right now,” he explained. The older ghoul nodded and watched the other scroll through his playlist. His breath hitched as he found a song, pressing the screen moments later. The raven-haired man clenched his teeth and pursed his lips when the song began to play.

 _I can't escape this hell_  
_So many times I've tried_  
_But I'm still caged inside_  
_Somebody get me through this nightmare_  
_I can't control myself_

 _So what if you can see the darkest side of me?_  
_No one will ever change this animal I have become_  
_Help me believe it's not the real me_  
_Somebody help me tame this animal_

He and Kaneki would have to have a conversation soon. The young man saw himself as broken, flawed, lost. He needed to remind the half-ghoul that he was not a monster. He had people that would be there for him no matter what happened. He wasn't alone. His attention was drawn to the door opening, revealing Renji. He had a large paper bag filled to the top.

“It was easier to go to Antieku. Raided the pantry. Everyone made it out ok, by the way,” he related. The raven-haired man nodded and pulled his phone out of his pants pocket. He quickly sent a text message and informed the silver-haired ghoul he would be downstairs. He took the stairs two at a time, walked quickly across the gallery and unlocked the door for his impending guest. Twenty minutes or so had passed before the door chimed. He placed the mask he was sewing onto the table and looked to the dividing screen.

“Uta, how's it going? It's been a while,” Nico mused. The other ghoul nodded slowly.

“Yep. How have you been?”

“Eh, ok. Had some excitement today. I heard you were there, though,” Nico asked, trying to draw out information from the other ghoul.

“Yes, I was. You had something that was mine,” he said lowly.

“Hey man, that wasn't my doing. That was all Yamori. The little dude sacrificed himself so the other ones could go free. It's Yamori though. The pipsqueak didn't know he never does what he promises. Naive little guy,” the clown-like ghoul related.

“And you didn't stop him. Why?” the tattooed ghoul questioned.

“It wasn't my place. What did I care what Yamori did to him?”

“But you should have, Nico, you should have. He's here, you know. We found him, but he's lost. Yamori fucked him up, oh he fucked him up good. And you did nothing,” he watched as the other ghoul flinched when he pounded the drafting table with a fist, “to stop him. You could have reasoned with him, you could have gotten Kaneki out of there, you could have called me to come pick him up. But you did nothing.”

“I'm...I'm truly sorry, Uta. I didn't know he meant that much to you. What can I do to make it up to you?” the other ghoul stumbled over his words. He knew that the raven-haired man's temper was legendary when provoked. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of his unrelenting rage.

“I'll give you a pass, Nico. We're good. Don't ever do anything like this ever again, though.”

The other ghoul exhaled slowly and nodded. He shook the mask-maker's hand, promising to reform his ways and he'd be back soon. The tattooed man shooed the other ghoul out of his shop, closing the door behind him and locking it again. He walked back to the desk and picked his phone up. He entered a series of numbers onto the screen and pressed the send button. It rang several times before someone picked up.

_“CCG communications. How may I help you?”_

“I need to report a ghoul sighting. Please send someone quickly. I'm so afraid he's going to get me,” Uta said, feigning his fear. He was such a good actor when it was necessary.

_“Alright, sir. Can you please describe him to me and his location?”_

The mask-maker relayed the information to the operator. He declined to give his personal details to the operator, citing fear of retribution. The operator understood and told him there was a unit in the area, they would resolve the situation immediately. After thanking the woman profusely, he pressed the end button. He placed the phone back on the desk and sat down on the stool. He picked the mask up and began sewing. He had almost finished stitching the pieces together when he heard a commotion in the alley. He tilted his head toward the sound as he continued on the mask. A familiar muffled voice raised in pitch, words coming quickly before shouting. Loud banging was followed by a bloodcurdling scream. Screams turned into moans before silence prevailed. The mask-maker's lips twitched into an evil smile.

“Two down,” he said to himself. He put the mask on the desk, rose from the stool and shuffled to the stairs. He clicked the light switch off, darkness swallowing the shop. A small sliver of light from the alley peeked through a window, falling on the insane jester mask displayed on the wall.

“How fitting,” he pondered before climbing the stairs.


End file.
